Closure
by D-chan
Summary: hinted Sanzo x Goku :: language :: A few hours being locked out in the cold and rain, Goku gets an unwanted chance to remember and realize a few important things.


**:: Closure ::**

_Gensomaden__ Saiyuki_

Disclaimer: I don't own Gensomaden Saiyuki, which rightfully belongs to Minekura Kazuya.

Rating: PG

Pairings: mild, hinted Sanzo/Goku

Warnings: language, mild angst

Notes: This was... both hard and easy to write. I actually wanted to use this idea a long time ago, when I was still writing for SSO, but it's working a lot better here in this fic. I'm actually pretty proud with this one (gee, we'll see how long _that_ lasts). One of the reasons is that I've actually experienced something very, very similar to what the main problem is here. It was more on accident rather than deliberate, unlike the fic, but still very similar.

Anyway, this is yet another one-shot I'm doing in between projects. (I have too many projects. Why do I do this to myself? Oi...) Feedback and constructive criticism is always appreciated. I hope this will do at least a little bit to soothe a couple of certain people's agitations over the recent badfics. ^^; Love you both; here's to you.

At first he thought the sudden darkness was because nighttime was falling already. It only came as a bit of a surprise; the boy knew he was prone to lose track of time. Still, he tilted his head back to confirm the source of the sudden nightfall. It turned out to not be nightfall at all, but dark rain clouds quickly rolling in, blotting out the early evening sky.

He grinned; what fun this would be! Sure, his keeper would get annoyed when he tracked mud inside, but he wouldn't stay mad about it for long. He rarely did.

It started as a light sprinkle, barely enough to get him damp. He knew he was all right for now; the temple entrance wasn't too far away. If someone called for him he could come running quickly. He was very fast. He wouldn't be late if called. The sprinkle turned into a heavier drizzle, and in seconds it started to really rain. He paused, shielding his eyes to he could look back up at the sky again. The clouds were very dark, such a dark gray they were almost black.

When the water started pelting down, the splashes so large it seemed one drop would be enough to rinse his dirty hands with, he decided it was time to head back. He hurried up the temple stairs, scrambling for the entrance. Not a soul was in sight. Everyone must have been inside.

By then he was soaked thoroughly. Any dirt or mud had been washed off by the heavy rain; the sound of it pounding relentlessly on the temple roofs seemed to carry everywhere. He muttered something rude, surprised to find he couldn't even hear his own voice over the noise.

Shaking his head, long hair throwing water all over the place, he hurried beneath the dry porch cover. It was starting to get cold. Little shivers were steadily coursing through his childish body. The idea of curling up warm and dry in his room was very appealing right then. He pulled on the sliding door.

It wouldn't budge.

He frowned, his hand not moving from the door. That was strange; all it usually took was a gentle push and the door would slide right open. He tugged harder, and when nothing happened, even harder still. He flinched when he heard a splintering sound, muffled by the rain and door. Something was obstructing the door, and the last thing he wanted to do was break whatever it was. He had no issues with breaking someone else's property -- or, hell, even his own -- but he disliked the rebuking he got afterward.

It wasn't as though this was the only door to the temple. The problem was that it was the only door leading to the particular _part_ of the temple he most needed to be in. This was where his room was, where the kitchen was... the same hallway his keeper's room was, right across from his own so he could hurry to him when needed.

Whining in childish frustration, he kicked at the door, wincing when he heard another splinter. That obviously wasn't the best idea. Since noise wasn't working and would cause a lot of damage anyway, he might as well try yelling. At least he'd only be called annoying and not get whacked for breaking something.

"Sanzo!" The cry was swallowed by the rain, and as though on cue he heard the first crash of thunder. It made him start and look over his shoulder; the rain was falling to hard that it looked like one huge, thick, wet sheet. He stared into the darkness; lightning crashed seconds later. He flinched, turning back to the door. "Hey, Sanzo!" He raised his voice until it started to hurt his throat. "Sanzo! _Sanzo!_" He stomped his foot; the thin sole of his shoes make a rubbery sound against the wood. "This isn't funny! I'm freezing out here! Sanzo!"

_He_ could certainly hear his own screams, could even feel how hoarse his throat felt after what seemed like hours of yelling. It couldn't have been more than fifteen minutes, but he was cold, shivering, and had been screaming at the top of his lungs with barely some pauses for breath.

But the shouting wasn't working. The rain was simply too loud, and he had no hopes that any of the other monks _would_ help even if they could hear him.

He also had no doubts they had been the ones to do this.

Breathing a loud sigh of annoyance and worry, the boy leaned against the wall beside the door, slumping down in a wet, dripping puddle to the floor. Something hurt; it took him a moment to realize it was his chest. His breathing felt constricted. He wasn't afraid, not of being locked out. He was afraid of _something_, but it wasn't really just the idea of being out in the rain all night...

It was the fact he was alone that scared him. That was it. He was well aware it would only be for one night, that one night was tiny in comparison to the five hundred years he had spent in the cave... but he was also worried that Sanzo had stopped responding to him.

He didn't think Sanzo even realized the door had been barricaded. In fact, that was the last thing he expected the man to do, at least in weather like this. When it rained Sanzo was more concerned with getting the boy inside before he got so wet he ruined something. He could always find reasons to yell at the boy. The thought brought a tiny smile to his face.

It also filled him with renewed determination. He got to his feet. There were other ways to get inside. He was dead certain the rest of the doors would be blocked or trapped shut as well, but perhaps a window... it would be hard to block a window shut, right? The ones at this temple swung inward. There was a tiny latch for all of them, but there had to be at least _one_ that someone had forgotten. They couldn't have had much time to check everything, after all.

He rounded the porch, walking until he finally saw a window. Inside was dark; no candles were lit. Apparently everyone had gone to their room, or perhaps to the praying hall or something. As long as no one was there, the boy could probably get in. He stood on his toes, pushing firmly on the wooden frame. It didn't move much; it wiggled a bit, but not nearly enough for him to even slip his little finger in. He pushed again, a bit harder this time, but it seemed the latch was in place. He hurried on to try another window.

There was one window he recalled had a broken latch-- probably because he had broken it by pulling it from the window, curious as to how it worked. Sanzo had been furious. And he was pretty sure that window was the one in his very own room.

He peered into the next window, pleased and relieved to find it was the very one he needed. He could see his cot on the floor with the blanket he hadn't bothered to pull over it. He pushed on the window, expecting it to give way.

It didn't.

Startled, the brunette pushed harder. It didn't even wiggle like the others had, so the latch wasn't fixed. How was it shut so tightly, then? Emitting something between a whine and a growl of frustration, he fell back. Apparently they _had_ latched all the windows, possibly against the storm, and his wouldn't budge.

There weren't as many doors as there were windows, and it was very likely all of them were blocked as well. Nevertheless, he wasn't getting anywhere. He had to try. He must have circled the entire temple twice, pushing and all the doors and windows he could get his hands on. Three times he'd been forced to run through the rain to get to another window, even in a different complex from where he was supposed to sleep, but the entire temple was shut against him.

He was completely locked out.

Eventually he ended up back at the front door, tired, cold, wet, and steadily growing miserable. He collapsed to the floor again, curling up against the wall and bringing his knees to his chest in attempt to preserve body heat. It wasn't freezing, but it was far too cold to find comfort in.

He supposed he could have gone down the temple stairs and into town, probably found shelter there, but a few things stopped him from doing that. One reason was that he was too tired to move now, no matter how cold he was. Another was that if he left he was almost dead certain that would give Sanzo the impression he had left with no intention of returning, and that was one of the last signals he wanted to send his keeper. A third reason was that he simply didn't want to sleep anywhere but here, where he could reach Sanzo in a hurry if need be.

Life threw you a lot of surprises. One could never predict when that "need be" would arise, and he wasn't about to take any chances.

The rain seemed to lessen a bit, but it hardly stopped from falling. He stared into the darkness with blank eyes, not really seeing, thinking a lot harder than he was used to. It wasn't entirely conscious; his mind was just wandering down paths he normally consciously tried to avoid, but now...

_The day he can't hear me..._

Five hundred years without the sun he needed to sustain him had been pure torture. He never could remember what he had done before his imprisonment, or why he deserved it, but there were other things he _could_ remember. Very brief, fleeting things; sensations that brushed the corners of his mind, teasing him with their taste but never granting him the full experience of enjoying them.

He could remember a world that always seemed to shine, dark places that would light up because of his one sunshine. Rain wasn't something he could recall from this place, but he was certain that if there had been, his rare sun would have ordered those dark clouds away, allowing him to bask in the comfort of its sunlight should he choose to. And perhaps he had; sometimes he got the feeling he had done it too often, causing him to take this rare sun for granted.

_The moment he stops responding to me..._

He buried his head in his arms, feeling a small, very not amused smile playing on his lips. Acceptance, or even tolerance, from the other monks would have been nice. At least from the students; that wouldn't have been so bad, perhaps even better. But he wasn't about to delude himself into thinking that would ever happen. No, he knew it wouldn't. That was why he so firmly attached himself to the one person he could and ever would fully, completely, and unhesitatingly trust. That, obviously, was Sanzo.

He didn't want or need anybody else. Despite his bravado in his more confident, even arrogant moments, despite his claims that he could take care of himself without Sanzo's help, he still needed Sanzo, because that man possessed the rare sunlight he not only lived, but _thrived_ on.

_That's when..._

So preoccupied with his thoughts was he, that he didn't hear the loud curse made soft by the rain. He dimly heard the sound of something being moved, the sound of something scraping on the floor, but he just couldn't bring himself to care or realize its significance.

_... I want to stop breathing._

The sliding door slammed open.

He slowly turned his head, mildly surprised to see a certain blonde-haired monk standing there, looking ruffled and annoyed, like a bristling cat after its tail had stepped on. That was a good comparison, since the boy had actually stepped on a cat's tail and seen what it looked like during the aftermath.

The blonde stared down at him, matching his expression briefly, before glaring and grabbing his arm roughly, jerking him to his feet. "Idiot!" he yelled, easily heard despite the rain. Perhaps it was his deep, clear voice, or perhaps it was just because they were practically nose-to-nose right then. "Why the hell didn't you come back instantly? Get your ass in here!"

The reaction was purely instinct; the boy quickly scrambled inside, blanketed in a wave of warmth almost immediately. He watched Sanzo slam the door back shut, then noticed the splintered wooden bar and desk in the hallway. Were those what had been keeping the door shut?

"Stupid," Sanzo muttered, stalking down the hallway. His grip on the boy's arm had never relinquished. "Stupid, idiot, good-for-nothing, dumbass monkey..."

Teeth still chattering, the boy glanced back down the hallway. He noticed a gleam of large glasses, caught a glimpse of a freckled, pale face, and then Sanzo jerked his arm roughly and he had to turn his attention.

"Sanzo--"

"Quiet, Goku," the man snapped, opening another sliding door. This one, thankfully, didn't lead outside, but into a room-- the boy's room. Goku's room.

Goku wanted to go straight for his cot, but Sanzo jerked the blankets back when he tried to pull them up. "Don't be an idiot," he said gruffly. "Change your clothes. You'll probably get sick anyway."

Numb, still cold, Goku willingly complied without his usual complaints. As he pulled his pajamas on over his head he noticed the bedroom window, the one that always swung inward, had been nailed shut.

That explained a lot.

"Gods, you're an idiot," Sanzo muttered in disgust. "Why the hell couldn't you get inside anywhere else?"

Goku crawled back to his cot. His throat hurt a bit; perhaps he was already getting sick. He answered anyway. "Not my fault," he grumbled, pulling his blanket tightly around him. He looked down at the end of his cot, where a corner of the blanket had been kicked up. Perhaps someone in a hurry to do their job then leave... "I was just playing outside," he went on. "Then it started raining hard. And when I got back the door was stuck." He clutched at the blankets so hard his fingers ached. "And I yelled, but you didn't hear me... and I tried the windows, but they wouldn't move... and if I broke anything, you'd get mad at me..."

"Stupid," he heard Sanzo say, his voice quiet but no less harsh. "I'd rather you break something than cause me this much trouble."

Goku lay down, peering up at his keeper-- his savior, his guardian, his sun. If he hadn't heard him yelling, physically, then how...? "How'd you know I was outside?"

The blonde glared at him, violet eyes visible even with the poor lighting. "You weren't in your room. So I thought you were causing trouble somewhere."

_Causing trouble... or in trouble. It's the same thing for you, anyway._

Goku couldn't hear the man's thoughts, but he could very well sense them. Laughing weakly, he pressed his face into the pillow, surprised to find it cool to the touch. He hoped he wasn't getting a fever...

"Sanzo-sama!" Goku groaned, trying to block his ears, knowing Sanzo was shooting him an exasperated look for such a childish gesture. But really, he didn't want to hear or even see another monk. Now that Sanzo knew what had happened, he just wanted to be alone for a few hours, sleep...

He heard the slight shuffle of Sanzo's sandals on the floor, and the cool reply of, "Did you know that all the entrances were blocked? Down to the very last window?"

There was a pause, one that went on too long for either Goku or Sanzo's liking. "It was probably just... protection against wild animals, Sanzo-sama. You know sometimes... bears come outside... when it's raining..."

"Next time, don't forget that idiot monkeys must be kept _inside_ before those measures are taken," Sanzo said evenly, his voice almost deadpan. "Their dead bodies are a bother to get rid of." Goku's soft snort of amusement was muffled by his pillow; Sanzo didn't react, but the boy knew he heard.

"Ah..." There was unease in this monk's voice. "Yes, Sanzo-sama. We'll remember that."

Goku didn't open his eyes once, not when the footsteps moved into the hallway, and not when the sliding door shut behind them. He could sense he was alone, but for the moment that was all right. He didn't need company around the clock; just enough to reassure himself that he was still here, still alive, still cared for, even if that care was shown in a somewhat warped manner.

His chills subsiding, warmth seeping into his body like hot tea into his stomach after a satisfying meal, Goku easily found and welcomed sleep's embrace. In his dreams there was no true cruelty, no locks to keep him out: just care -- and love -- shown in its own fashion, given as a gift with no locks or strings attached.

In his dreams, the sound of the heavy rain vanished.


End file.
